


Things We Shouldn't Do

by hdarchive



Category: Glee
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:05:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6041020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hdarchive/pseuds/hdarchive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything he can't do with Blaine he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things We Shouldn't Do

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very, very, very delayed reaction fic to 4x14. I was so young when it came out I didn't really think deep about it until just recently. [Marlie](http://devonselizabeth.tumblr.com) got me thinking about the line, "Tell me now that we're not back together." and what they could have possibly done to make Blaine say that. Also huge thank you to everyone who read this beforehand and encouraged me to share ♥
> 
> Just a few warnings: touches on their breakup/a very brief mention of Eli

Getting the hotel room was a great idea, after being interrupted so many times in the car.

After the disaster of the wedding they drove to the nearest gas station, stood a respectable distance apart as Kurt bought the lube, Blaine bought the condoms, two separate transactions to make it look like they weren’t using them together because they _shouldn’t_ be using them together.

Blaine seems to understand that they aren’t together, that they can’t be together, so every time he touches Kurt, every time he looks too long at Kurt, he returns it, he touches back and he looks back because it doesn’t mean anything.

Once in the hotel room Blaine spins Kurt around so he’s pressed against the door, their mouths quickly finding one another. Kurt’s still got Blaine’s tie in his hand - and he wonders distantly, why a tie and not a bowtie - as Blaine’s knee nudges Kurt’s legs apart.

They keep kissing, because they’re good at kissing.

Sure he hadn’t planned on kissing Blaine. He hadn’t meant to go to the wedding with Blaine at all. But Adam doesn’t know Mr. Schue or Ms. Pillsbury, and Kurt didn’t really want to ask Adam anyway, and Blaine just so happened to be going alone too, so it worked out.

Although that last part turned out to not be true, because apparently Blaine was meant to go with Tina to the wedding, and it made something blossom and tingle in Kurt’s chest, because Blaine still opted for him, Blaine still wanted _him_ more _._  And he felt like a stupid and giddy sixteen year old again when Blaine showed up at his house to pick him up, looking mature and somehow older in his suit, like he was going to his own wedding and not somebody else’s.

That hurt, and he just wanted to touch him, so he did, and then they couldn’t stop. Not even when they pulled into the church parking lot, both of them mutually deciding that ten minutes was enough time to come together and clean up and act like nothing had happened. But then Tina had knocked on the window, so they scrapped the orgasm idea and settled for kissing, but then Mercedes had knocked on the window and they had to give up, because there is no escaping Mercedes.

They can continue now though. Kurt backs them up, pushes Blaine down on the bed and wastes no time in climbing up, straddling his thighs, grinding their crotches together briefly.

Blaine laughs roughly, looking up at Kurt far too fondly, hands trailing up and down his arms. “No interruptions this time.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, looks over his shoulder at the door, as if somebody is about to burst right through. “Unless Tina spied on us from down the hall.”

“I don’t even care right now,” Blaine groans, reaches up to help Kurt undo the buttons of his shirt. “I missed you so much.”

He ignores it. He’s built up a defense to Blaine’s words.

That’s a lie, he absorbs them all and stores them away for later, to think about when he’s alone, when it’s okay to break. But he makes a good face of not caring, making it look like he’s ignoring Blaine.

He’ll regret saying it, but with Blaine’s hands on him he suddenly forgets why he shouldn’t, throws his head back and murmurs, “I missed you too.”

Blaine’s hand runs down his exposed stomach, fingers pressing against his muscles, and he realizes they haven’t had sex since before he left for New York, so Blaine hasn’t seen him like this in months, and he feels suddenly proud, rolling his shoulders back and puffing out his chest, lets Blaine see.

Clothes go flying. Blaine pushes Kurt’s shirt off his shoulders and throws it to the ground, quickly shrugging off his own suit jacket, and Kurt wishes he’d be a little more careful as that goes flying to the ground too.

One of Blaine’s hands hooks around the back of Kurt’s neck, yanking him down, and Kurt goes, and opens his mouth because they’re far past the stage of tender-hesitant kissing, they know each other like this. Blaine’s tongue slips inside of his mouth and Kurt groans, knows Blaine can feel it.

He keeps kissing him to keep his mouth shut. Because they can’t talk.

He knows he said he would. It was easy to say that over the phone. A mature heart to heart. He needs that, he does, every day not getting to the bottom of this claws at his heart but he can’t do it. With Blaine right there, real and alive and in love with him, he can’t do it, because he looks at his face and all he can think of is Blaine’s face that night in the park, when he destroyed and shook Kurt’s entire world.

But he can touch him, and he wants Blaine to touch him back.

“That duet was fun,” Blaine mumbles between kisses, hands exploring the planes of Kurt’s back, muscle more prominent now, more sharp. “I missed singing with you. I think everyone missed us singing together judging by their dancing.”

Kurt laughs into the next kiss, bringing his hands up to cup Blaine’s cheeks and says, “I’ll have to fly in more often and crash your glee club.”

He was kidding, but Blaine’s face seems to light up. “Please do.”

Their chests press against each other, Blaine can probably feel the way Kurt’s heart is beating because he swears he can feel Blaine’s. They’re both breathing hard and loud and making as much noise as possible, and god he loves the noises Blaine makes . . .

“Did you bring the bags in from the car?” he asks, eyes wide and scared on Blaine, because they can’t go any further without those white little plastic bags from a shady gas station.

Blaine nods quickly, says, “That I did. Put them in the bathroom, one second.” and rolls them over so he can stand up, but Kurt grabs his wrist, body suddenly cold without Blaine, and pulls him back down for one more kiss.

The hopeful smile Blaine gives him makes his racing heart freeze and shatter in his chest, but he’s good at ignoring that too.

He gets up and kicks his pants off, wants to make a point of carefully folding them and setting them down somewhere but he’s too jittery, too nervous - and nervous why is he nervous he shouldn’t be -

He knows Blaine’s body, he knows what it can do to him and what it does to him. He knows Blaine. He thinks he knows Blaine. He wants to pretend he knows Blaine so that they can still do this.

He -

In some dark part of his mind or his heart he knows he feels something for Blaine to at least make this enjoyable. He must. Or else that backseat of the car wouldn’t have felt so good. Even if it’s just a different kind of love, the kind of love you have for your best friend, because that’s what they are, best friends. Just like always.

Blaine’s taking an awfully long time finding those plastic bags . . .

A few seconds later Blaine comes out of the bathroom, holding the bags, staring blankly into one, then the other. “Uh . . .”

Kurt sits up straight, unfolds his legs and gives Blaine a dark look. “That is not the kind of sound I want to hear right now.”

Blaine drops down to the bed and sighs heavily, shaking his head as his eyes fill with panic.

“I think I forgot something.”

Kurt’s entire body snaps towards Blaine, grabbing the bags from his hands as he spits, “What could you have possibly forgotten?”

“I don’t know - I don’t know!” Blaine splutters, looking into the bags with Kurt, and all that’s in there is the bottle of lube . . . and a pack of gum. “I must have left it on the counter. I was panicking, the guy was looking at me like he knew, Kurt, I must have ran out without taking them -”

“The condoms,” Kurt says lowly to himself, feeling his pulse finally slow.

“We - we have the lube at least -”

Kurt slaps his palm over his face and goans, turns to Blaine and shouts, “What good is lube if we have no condoms, Blaine?”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Blaine snaps back, lifting his head to glare at Kurt. “I can go ask Finn or - or Jake or Mr. Schue.”

“You are not going out there like _this_ to ask anybody for a condom!”

“Well what do you want to do?”

He drops his chin to his chest and takes a deep breath, thinks of a plan and fails.

“I don’t know,” he says, looking at Blaine a bit hopelessly. “Just - come here?”

Blaine nods, gaze never leaving Kurt’s lips, and leans closer to him, pushing the bags to the ground and cupping the side of Kurt’s face.

Kurt melts into it, lost in nothing but Blaine, mind thinking nothing but Blaine, heart beating for nothing but Blaine.

Blaine pushes Kurt onto his back, the bed dipping with their weight, and leans over him, lips never going far, and Blaine’s hand travels down Kurt’s chest, down his belly, rubbing lower and lower until his hand is situated over Kurt’s covered cock.

Blaine mumbles lowly, “Do you still want me to touch you?”

Yes, because touching is just touching, yes because your touch is so specifically your touch and I want nothing else, _yes_.

He nods, but then his brain - it must short-circuit or shut down, because the plan suddenly forms and it’s nothing that he would have ever thought before. Blaine’s just got his fingertips under Kurt’s briefs before Kurt is grabbing his wrist and pulling him away, keeps his fingers wrapped around Blaine, and looks hard at his face.

“Blaine?”

Blaine frowns, eyes still on Kurt’s crotch, seemingly pouting as he slowly looks back up and asks, “Yeah?”

“Are you - you know -” He doesn’t know how to word it, throat suddenly feeling tight, too thick, swallows and says hesitantly, “I’ve never been with anyone else.”

Blaine twists his wrist around so Kurt lets go, but quickly threads his freed fingers through Kurt’s and pulls their hands close to his chest. “Okay . . ?”

“Are you . . . have you been tested? Are you clean?”

He throbs hot with what that entails, what he’s implying, feels feverish and desperate and delirious.

Blaine immediately sits up, dropping Kurt’s hand, nodding furiously at Kurt. “I’m clean. I’m clean. I got tested right after I’m clean and - and besides Eli and I never even took our pants off and -”

“Stop. Stop.” It’s a punch right to the chest, right through his ribs, straight to the heart. He sits up too and turns away, tries to breathe, holds his hand out so Blaine doesn’t try to get closer. “I don’t - I don’t want to hear it.”

The bed dips as Blaine ignores Kurt’s held out hand, shuffles a bit closer, his voice right by his ear as he says, “We need to talk about it eventually, Kurt.”

“No we don’t,” he says defiantly, still not looking at Blaine. “So stop it. I need -”

He swallows through the roughness in his throat, takes another deep breath and then finally turns to look at Blaine over his shoulder, because this is supposed to be fun and happy and reckless. Not - this.

“I need to be able to do this with you still.”

It’s all I have. I can’t look at you fully, I can’t talk to you for very long, not seriously, do not take away the one thing I have left with you please.

Blaine nods, leans forward a bit more to kiss Kurt’s shoulder, mumbles against him, “So you still want to do it?”

He closes his eyes, can’t look at Blaine’s face. “Yes.”

Hands run over his arms, prompting him further back on the bed, guiding him down, and then Blaine’s hooking his fingers under the band of Kurt’s briefs and pulling them down, and then Blaine’s kicking his off, and then there’s nothing else to do but touch each other.

He wants to tell Blaine no more talking, don’t say anything, because he already knows what all this means but he just can’t hear it yet.

He doesn’t though, because once Blaine’s got his fingers inside of him he can’t focus on anything else, bearing down on them like he desperately needs more even though it’s just begun. Blaine kisses his lips, his neck, pecks them across his chest, listening to how Kurt’s breathing increases in pace as he enters another finger, presses them in faster, and Blaine whispers, “Never thought I’d get to do this for you again.” and Kurt stores that away for later.

And Blaine might have whispered, “I love you so much.” in that same desperate tone that he had over Thanksgiving, but he’s got three fingers all the way inside of Kurt and Kurt’s arching off the bed already and grabbing at the sheets, because it’s been so long and that’s all he can focus on.

He knows though, that he’ll hear it later, when he’s trying to sleep at night, when he’s at his weakest and misses Blaine the most.

His hands grab uselessly at Blaine’s hair, at his shoulders, mumbling, “Oh my god Blaine -” over and over as he pushes out against his fingers, trying to get them where he wants them.

Maybe Blaine’s playing dumb, maybe he’s teasing him, but he is having none of that, so he sits up and pushes at Blaine’s shoulder so he’s on his back this time, climbs up over him and finds his lips again, moaning into his mouth when Blaine’s hands land on his ass, spreading him apart.

He whines, has to pull his mouth away to rock down, rut his cock against Blaine’s stomach, feels the way Blaine’s cock slides wetly over his ass, between his cheeks.

Blaine must be too far gone, because his voice has gone lower, grittier, saying words he wouldn’t ever usually say. “- can’t wait - know you can take it -”

He nearly tips over, head rushing with heat, dizzy, and plants his hands on Blaine’s chest and tries to catch his breath.

This position is nice because he can choose when Blaine enters him, how fast they can go, but right now - he feels pulled apart, feels shaken, feels like he’s an unfinished jigsaw puzzle but Blaine’s hands have the ability to put him together. So he looks down at Blaine, eyelids lowered, and whispers, begs, “Fuck me.”

Blaine nods like Kurt just suggested they run away to get married or something, too eager, and rolls them back over and pins Kurt’s hands above his head, nips hard at his neck and goes down. He tells him to lift his legs up, he does, and Blaine shoves a pillow under him, takes Kurt’s legs and pushes them up to his chest.

It must be a moment of weakness, because he’s never seen Blaine look so unsure about touching him before, looking down to where Kurt’s spread and open for him and then back to his face, quietly asking, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he responds without hesitation, ignores the beat of fear in his chest because once Blaine pushes in, there’s no going back.

Blaine feels hot and wet and wide and wonderful, everything he needs, sinking in slowly.

He doesn’t think about what it means, it’s not supposed to mean anything. It’s just sex with his ex. Unprotected sex with his ex. Reckless sex with his sex. Sex with his ex where his ex keeps whispering _I love you_ , like Kurt’s deaf or oblivious and can’t hear it.

Everyone hooks up at weddings, he tells himself, and if everyone is doing it then it means nothing. Absolutely nothing. It doesn’t have to.

Don’t say any words and it won’t have to.

It’s fun. Just like the back of the car and the way they practiced their duet last night in Kurt’s living room, it’s just like that, doesn’t have to mean anything.

“Faster, Blaine - come on -” He twists around impatiently, feeling the throb of Blaine somewhere deep inside of him but he just wants it everywhere.

“Kurt, wait a second,” Blaine says harshly, slowly pulling his hips backwards, pulling his cock out. “It’s - it’s been awhile you’re still so tight -”

He claws up Blaine’s back, pulls at his hair, slides one leg down so he can press at Blaine’s lower back with his heel. “Fuck me, Blaine -”

“Okay.” Blaine doesn’t need to be told twice, pulling out only to snap back in, fast, and Kurt gasps out at the sudden fullness, the impact of it, closing his eyes tight to just - feel it.

Blaine’s heavy on top of him, making Kurt feel like he can’t breathe, but he’s alright with it, he prefers it, doesn’t need to breathe anyways.

He drags his nails down Blaine’s shoulders, then looks at his hair, gel beginning to lose its hold, and Blaine seems to know this, brings a hand up to quickly run over the side of his head.

This is the Blaine he knows, this is the Blaine he’s always known.

“You didn’t wear a bowtie today,” he says distantly, quietly, not really thinking as he runs his fingers back through Blaine’s hair, messing it up again.

Blaine gives a short, choppy laugh and tips his head down, voice gravelly as he asks, “You noticed?”

Kurt sharpens his gaze on Blaine. “Of course I noticed.”

That seems to drive Blaine madder, crazier, grabbing at Kurt’s legs and holding him open as he fucks into him, taken over by something. They keep at that pace, that angle, for a little while longer, Kurt stretching his arms out to grab at the sheets, the pillows, Blaine’s hair, tipping his head back to just gasp and cry out at the ceiling because screw it all to hell it definitely feels like it means something.

And then Blaine says, “Can you turn over?”

He doesn’t hear the request at first, blinks confusedly at Blaine, but Blaine slips out of him and pushes at his hip, so he rolls onto his stomach and rises up to his knees.

Blaine pushes back in and the rest of the world goes out. He quickly closes his eyes and grabs tight at the sheets and cries, whimpers, this angle this pace yes he can feel Blaine _everywhere_.

But that’s not why Blaine wanted him to roll over he guesses, because Blaine drapes himself over Kurt’s back and brushes his lips against Kurt’s ear, whispers, “Knew this would happen.”

He nods, not sure why he’s nodding, he won’t give in to Blaine he won’t -

This is the Blaine he knows. So sure and so confident in his belief, and Kurt’s known all day that every time he said _this doesn’t mean anything_ and Blaine said _I know, we’re just friends_ that he was lying. He’s known that this whole time. And Blaine knows that he knows that, because Blaine knows Kurt too.

He feels - underneath all his other feelings and thoughts because with Blaine inside of him he’s feeling too much - annoyed, mad, hurt because Blaine’s been lying, because Blaine knew once he got Kurt like this then he’d be open and exposed and truthful. He’s more mad at himself, for still letting Blaine affect him like that.

Blaine pulls out again, holds himself in one hand and purposely, torturously rubs the wide, wet head of his cock around Kurt’s rim, and says a bit louder, “Nobody else, right?”

That he can’t store away. That is not a fact, that is a question, even though they both know the answer.

“Just you.” He presses his forehead to his arm and gasps, fights for his next breath, fights to stop from saying _I love you_. “Just - _you_.”

They’ve done this once before. Just once, in a foolish rush, no protection just skin just Blaine inside of Kurt because they seriously thought that’s how it would be forever, that there would never be anybody else, that it would stay as perfect as it was -

How stupid.

How stupid were they?

How stupid are they now?

He pushes back, his entire body feels on the verge of snapping, his chest hurts with how heavily he’s breathing, and he gets out one last, “Just you.”

So stupid.

This seems to motivate Blaine somehow, and Kurt doesn’t know how he can go any faster but he does, grabs at Kurt’s hips hard and snaps his hips forward, making an obscene sound against Kurt’s ass as he slides back in, and Kurt gives up, sinks his chest right down to the bed and clenches hard around Blaine, the only thing he can do with his body now.

Blaine has more energy than he ever has before, leaning over Kurt’s back again to brush his lips along his neck, sucking a mark almost viciously, nipping at the tender wet skin when he’s done.

He lets Blaine use him, fill him, that’s all he can do he can’t do anything else, between using his strength to stay conscious and using his strength to prevent himself from saying words he can’t say, he has nothing left to give.

Blaine doesn’t seem to mind.

“Come on, Kurt,” he murmurs lowly, blowing a stream of cool air over the mark he’s created, then reaches underneath Kurt and wraps his hand around him.

He makes a noise that sounds like a scream, goes impossibly tight and doesn’t know which way to move, forward into Blaine’s hand or backwards onto Blaine’s cock, doesn’t know how to breathe suddenly as he reaches out and grabs the nearest pillow roughly, bringing it closer to bite at, to muffle his cries.

“There we go.”

He wants to be annoyed by the victorious tone in Blaine’s voice, but he can’t be, it feels too good, can’t stop from coming into Blaine’s hand, simultaneously rocking into Blaine’s grip and shoving his ass back for more, going tight around Blaine.

He doesn’t want it to end, doesn’t want it to go quiet, doesn’t want to be in a situation where they have nothing left to touch and too many words to say.

His mind says one thing, his heart says another.

“You can -” It’s terrifying to not be in control of his own words or his own thoughts why does Blaine _do this_ to him - “Come inside.”

Blaine hesitates for a second, maybe two, then drops his forehead to Kurt’s back, losing control as he jerks forward, chants his name and nothing but his name and it sounds so right and it feels so good and when he comes, Kurt feels that inside of him first.

Feeling like something he shouldn’t be feeling.

Then he feels the rest of Blaine fall apart, his hips stuttering forward as he pushes himself too far into Kurt, fingers pinching and pressing against Kurt’s skin, his laboured breathing across Kurt’s back.

Mostly he can feel Blaine still inside of him, even when he pulls out.

They roll onto their backs and breathe loud up at the ceiling, and he can feel Blaine’s eyes on him but he doesn’t look back.

Until he can’t resist any longer, has to, has to make sure he’s there and that this wasn’t some elaborate Ambien-induced dream. He tilts his head and gives Blaine one quick flash of a smile, and hopes that doesn’t say too much.

Blaine looks at him like he’s too afraid to touch him now, like he might break him.

“Can you -” His throat hurts a bit now, he was too loud, voice coming out raspier than he intended. “Can you hand me a tissue?”

Blaine nods, takes another second to look at Kurt before finally rolling over and reaching for the nightstand, but he doesn’t give Kurt the tissue, instead looks down at his body and asks, “Let me?”

Kurt flushes for some reason, feels embarrassed as Blaine wipes the tissue over his own fingers, grabbing another one to wipe away the remnants on Kurt’s stomach, parting Kurt’s legs a little to wipe the mess down there. His fingers linger too long, touching Kurt’s hole, and he shudders and winces but doesn’t make him stop.

Blaine tosses the used tissues towards the nightstand, then leans down and kisses Kurt, and this is Kurt’s favourite part and he should say goodbye to it, because sex with your ex who is still your best friend should not end in kisses like this.

Please don’t say it, he thinks, but doesn’t vocalize it, because there’s a too-big part of him that needs to hear it.

Blaine says it anyways, and maybe he knows that Kurt doesn’t want him to but needs it, presses his lips to Kurt’s and whispers, “Love you so much.”

Doesn’t he know what he does to me when he says that? Because I want to believe it, I still feel it, but I can’t trust that he means it -

What they just did . . . overcome with the insane urge to be with Blaine, he realizes just how much he had to trust him to do that. Shouldn’t have, so stupid, so ignorant to reality when he’s with Blaine, shouldn’t have trusted him like that but - he did.

He lets Blaine kiss him, kisses back, tells himself that this is the last time. It has to be the last time.

They get dressed. Kurt buttons his shirt up while looking in the mirror, staring at himself, wondering if he looks any different because he feels different. He meets Blaine’s gaze and tries not to smirk, because Blaine looks at him the same exact way he always has.

“Tell me now that we’re not back together,” Blaine says, hands raised in question.

We’re not, we’re not, that didn’t mean what you thought it meant it was just - it was -

“I mean - it was fun.”

Fun. Amongst other things yes but -

“Don’t -” Blaine looks amused, looks dumbfounded, like he can see right through Kurt and read his every thought. “I’m not going to let you minimize this, Kurt.”

Shining a light on every single thing they can’t talk about.

Blaine helps him with his jacket, like he’s there in Kurt’s life to help again, puts both hands on his shoulders and tells him that they’re going to be together, like he’s so certain, like even though Kurt’s saying no with his voice he said yes with his body, with his touch.

He wants to let himself crumble. Blaine just saw him at his weakest so he wants to fall apart and say yes, yes, please, I want that, I still want that, you’re right.

He knows he can’t though, he knows he shouldn’t. He lets his heart feel that and his heart beats out the reminder, pumps out venom.

Not yet.

He keeps his face neutral.

He’s not ready to admit to anything yet. Not until Blaine can see into him, and not just through him, completely and entirely oblivious to just how bad he wrecked him, like he thinks just because they love each other that’s enough to fix things.

They both seem to know that they’re going to be in love forever, but he can’t admit to it yet, because he knows forever still isn’t strong enough to stop them from breaking.

He raises his chin higher, leads with his eyes, with his voice, and he keeps on pretending.

**Author's Note:**

> It's [here](http://holdingdaylight.tumblr.com/post/139501898746/summary-everything-he-cant-do-with-blaine-he) on tumblr if you'd like to reblog it!


End file.
